


Loyalty

by thesometimeswarrior



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Character Study, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Morality, Gen, Guilt, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 08:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6898831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesometimeswarrior/pseuds/thesometimeswarrior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"'He accused me of being ‘Dumbledore’s man through and through,’' says the boy, and you laugh, because you can imagine the exact tone in which Scrimgeour would have said these words—gruffly, squinting his eyes.</p><p>You reply: 'How very rude of him.'</p><p>'I told him I was.'</p><p>And there it is—the pang in your chest, the retch in your stomach, the lump in your throat—all of it the price of the loyalty you’ve cultivated so carefully over the past decades."</p><p> </p><p>Albus Dumbledore contemplates loyalty and its costs as he gazes at the boy sitting across the desk from him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loyalty

**Author's Note:**

> I've always loved this little moment between Dumbledore and Harry in Book 6 (on p. 390 in the American edition), in which Dumbledore cries at Harry's display of loyalty to Scrimegor. But because I'm a sucker for angst, and getting into Dumbledore's head is fascinating, so I rethought this scene, in light of Book 7.
> 
> Some direct quotes borrowed from books 5 and 6.

“He accused me of being ‘Dumbledore’s man through and through,’” says the boy, and you laugh, because you can imagine the exact tone in which Scrimgeour would have said these words—gruffly, squinting his eyes.

You reply: “How very rude of him.”

“I told him I was.”

And there it is—the pang in your chest, the retch in your stomach, the lump in your throat—all of it the price of the loyalty you’ve cultivated so carefully over the past decades. With others, it is easier to dismiss, to justify. You are benefitting them, after all, in exchange; it is a transaction more than a manipulation. You have given Severus, for instance, a second chance at life, a home that he has never known, a sense of purpose, even _morality_ , in exchange for his loyalty. But what has _this_ boy received? What _will_ he receive?

Nothing. 

Well, that’s not _quite_ true. There will be, eventually, a world without Riddle, without this war. Everyone will gain that. And boy will want that. Would want that.

But he will not be alive to see it.

Well, _maybe_ he will be. Hope lives on, has lived on since that night two years ago when Riddle—arrogant, power-hungry, _terrified_ Tom Riddle—took the boy’s blood hoping to strengthen himself with it. It _may_ be enough to tether them both to life while still destroying the Horcrux in the boy. You wish that you were rather more confident about this potentiality than you in fact are. But it remains the only sliver of moral justification that you will get in this whole ordeal, a chance—and a slim one—that you are not merely raising a child to be slaughtered on the alter, that you can still escape this ordeal with a little bit of morality for yourself. And you will cling to it.

But, ultimately it doesn’t matter. Even _if_ the boy manages to survive it in the end, he will still have to be sacrificed. And you will still do it, and would even if he couldn’t be saved. Train him, teach him, ( _indoctrinate him_ , you tell yourself cynically), let him destroy the other Horcruxes, put himself in danger before he goes to die, so that others who have not been pre-marked for death will be as safe as they possibly can be. And ultimately, have him present himself willingly.

And he has no idea. Perhaps that is the worst part of it all. Gryffindor bravery be damned; you are a coward, because you have not been able to bring yourself to tell him. You tried, you _did_ , last year, after his godfather died, while he was storming in your office. You wanted him to know that you _deserve_ his rage. You came so _close_ to telling him—you elucidated the prophecy, you even told him the flaw in this great plan of yours: _“I cared about you too much. I cared more for your happiness than your knowing the truth, more for your peace of mind than for my plan, more for your life than the lives that might be lost if the plan failed…What did I care if numbers of nameless and faceless people and creatures were slaughtered in the vague future, if in the here and now you were alive, and well, and happy?"_ You almost told him, you _wept_ in front of him, the answer on the tip of your tongue…and then you told him instead why you hadn’t made him a Prefect. 

You are a coward. You are a killer. You are _his_ killer, or will be. And yet he is as loyal to you as he was when he was a boy of twelve-years-old. 

You don’t deserve it. It isn’t fair. You open your mouth to tell him as much, and then close it. What can you say, really? _Now_ is certainly not the time to tell him the truth, not when there is so much at stake…(or perhaps this is just your cowardice again.)

You feel tears prickling at your eyes, as your bird lets out a soft cry like you want to do. This is wrong. The boy should _hate_ you, but he _loves_ you, will stand up to the _Minister of Magic_ on your behalf. He trusts you, and you have been raising a ritual slaughter knife to his throat for the past fifteen years…

 _You’re going soft, old man_ , says Gellert’s voice in your head. You try to ignore it, like you always do. But it’s getting harder and harder to do so with every passing day.

The boy has looked down, embarrassed to see you cry. You must tell him something, give him some conceivable reason for your pathetic display. You hate that you have his loyalty, but you nonetheless _need_ it, at least for now. The lie, therefore, comes smoothly, clearly to your lips:

“I am very touched, Harry.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
